


The Inquisition's Slayer

by Bowm8935



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Because why not???, Buffy is the Inquisitor???, F/M, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Rogue Buffy, Slaying, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7792165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/pseuds/Bowm8935
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy Summers wakes up to find herself held captive and expected to fix a hole in the sky in a world she's unfamiliar with. </p><p>Is she up to it? Hell yeah, the slayer has been through worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about a month ago and let it be, unsure if it was worth my time. So I'm posting it to gauge interest. If people would actually enjoy reading something like this, I will work through the world of Inquisition with my favorite vampire slayer. I haven't touched any fics for this game yet because it's a huge undertaking (in my mind) so this would be the first.
> 
> And let me know who Buff should try to kiss :)

Buffy opened her eyes wearily, groaning when she registered the feeling of cold, hard stone against her aching body.  She scraped her palms against the floor to push up slowly, the cold metal of the shackles on her wrists biting into the skin harshly. She rocked up to sit back on her heels, tilting her head up to the high ceiling and taking a few deep breaths to center herself. Her blonde hair fell back to rest on her shoulders, greasy from lack of washing and heavy from dirt. Once she felt more in control, she slowly looked around, taking in her surroundings. She was in a chamber, cells lining the outside walls lit by torchlight. There were two armed guards, complete in full metal armor head to toe.

She gasped as a sharp stab of pain encompassed her left hand, eyes drawn to the flash of green light that seemed to be pouring out of a crack in her palm. It crackled loudly, spitting out a few stray strands of light accompanied by another bout of pain snaking up her arm.

She had little time to contemplate what this could mean as the only door into the room slammed open, admitting a tall woman with short brown hair, a crown of braids topping her head. She was looking at Buffy with eyes as hard as flint, a look she easily replicated as she watched her enter. Another woman followed behind her, a cowl hiding her face in shadows even as strands of bright red hair poked out, and both women circled the prisoner. Buffy had no need to follow their movement with her head; her well-trained slayer instincts honed in on the sound their steps made, echoing through the chamber, letting her know exactly where they were at all times.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now,” the brunette woman called out sharply, her accent unfamiliar to Buffy’s ears. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead.” She paused, coming to a stop in front of Buffy, arms crossed over her chest. “Except _you_ ,” she snarled, leaning down slightly. The light played across her face, highlighting a large scar on her cheek, and Buffy briefly wondered where she received it before realizing she was waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Buffy replied coldly, staring directly into the hard brown eyes of her captor. “What is a conclave?”

The sneer on the woman’s face only increased, and she reached out, snatching Buffy’s wrist and pulling it up, the eerie green glow passing over her face. “Explain _this_ ,” she growled, roughly throwing the hand back to the ground. Buffy held in a wince as the pain cascaded throughout her again, determined not to show any weakness. She had no idea where she was or who these strange women were; all she knew was she needed to survive.

That didn’t stop her trademark sarcasm from making an appearance, though. “Oh, yeah, I’d love to do that- if I knew what it was.”

“You’re lying!” For a brief moment, she thought the woman might hit her with the intense anger that flooded her face. Metal scraped as gauntleted fists clenched and relaxed, nostrils flaring as she stepped forward intimidatingly. The cloaked woman reappeared out of the shadows, stepping in front of her companion and pushing her back.

“We _need_ her, Cassandra!” The woman spoke in a melodic voice, accent lilting and sounding vaguely French. Once she had pushed Cassandra back a few paces, she turned back around to face Buffy. The flames flickered in the torches, changing the way the shadows fell on the shrouded face. She was actually fairly pretty- and obviously very dangerous. Buffy had plenty of experience with women who looked and moved like her. “Do you remember what happened? How this began?” she asked, pacing slowly in front of Buffy.

Buffy bit the inside of her cheek as she tried to recall the events that brought her here. Her mind was irritatingly blank, save for a few hazy spots. “I remember running,” she started slowly, face screwed up in thought. “Things- no, spiders, giant spiders, were chasing me. Then a glowing woman reached out to me-“

The red-headed woman halted in her movements, turning to face Buffy. “A woman?” she interrupted, tone a mix of amazement and trepidation, a look of hope flashing quickly across an otherwise neutral face.

The brunette stepped forward, placing a hand on her cohort’s shoulder. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” Buffy watched as Leliana backed away slowly, gaze assessing, before turning and strolling out the door. Cassandra came close, kneeling in front of her and unlocking the shackles binding her wrists. As the metal fell off, Buffy noticed she was also tied with rope; obviously they knew she was the Slayer, to have taken such precautions. Not that she knew what that meant for her.

She remained silent, getting to her feet and following Cassandra as the tall woman strode outside with ease, almost having to jog to keep up. They passed through a heavy metal door into the freezing wind, stepping onto a bridge filled with snow. She blinked in the bright light, eyes adjusting slowly as she turned to see what her captor was looking at. Her mouth fell open at the sight of the swirling hole in the sky, chunks of land floating around a thick line of green reaching toward the ground.

“We call it the Breach. It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.” Cassandra turned to face Buffy, walking toward her with one hand on the pummel of her sword. Buffy eyed her warily as she approached, muscles ready to bolt if needed. “Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.”

 _There’s that word again. Conclave._ Buffy was all too familiar with demons- they liked to haunt her at every turn back in Sunnydale- and had been through more than her fair share of apocalyptic events. As she watched the massive vortex, it seemed to shudder heavily, the light flashing brighter than normal and making the floating rocks shake as though they would fall to the ground. At the same moment, the pain receptors in her hand all lit up like a string of lights at Christmas, and she couldn’t help the groan of pain that fell from her lips as she clutched her wrist in agony. She fell to her knees as the throbbing increased, clenching her jaw to try to keep any more unwanted sounds from making their way out.

Cassandra fell to a knee in front of her, gesturing at Buffy’s hand. “Each time the Breach expands, the mark spreads… and it is killing you.” Buffy snapped her head up to look Cassandra in the eye, simultaneously shocked and unsurprised. Of course it was killing her; what else would it do? It’s not like she hadn’t died before…

The look Cassandra leveled at her was a mixture of pity and scorn, as though she despised Buffy’s very existence but yet couldn’t bring herself to believe she deserved the pain she was experiencing. “The mark may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

The ache subsided, and Buffy felt all of her muscles go limp as she relaxed her posture. She tilted her head in thought, gazing at Cassandra. The woman obviously thought she was guilty of the heinous crime of destroying this Conclave and murdering many innocent people in doing so, yet she seemed to be asking for her help. Well, maybe not asking so much as _demanding_ , but it was disguised as a question. Buffy’s gaze flickered back over to the Breach for a moment, watching as it twisted and turned, a large, monstrous green vortex intent on swallowing the world whole.

Well. She may not know where she is- _or perhaps it is_ _when_ , she thought as she looked at the people stationed around her, clad in steel armor and carrying medieval weapons- but she did know her duty as the Slayer, and that is to protect the world at all costs.

She let out a sigh, turning back to Cassandra. “Okay, fine. Let’s get this over with. Time to save the world… _again._ ” She did not miss the flicker of curiosity and confusion that passed quickly over Cassandra’s face, but had little time to worry about it as she promptly produced a dagger and cut the cords binding Buffy’s hands. Smiling bitterly, Buffy flexed her wrists, relief flooding through the chafed skin at being free to move. She stood up, rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck, willing her body to meet the demands laid out before her yet again. Cassandra pivoted and strode forward confidently, and Buffy hurried to keep up with her long strides. As they strode past the people milling about tents and work areas, Buffy noticed all of them watching her carefully with looks of contempt.  She bit the inside of her cheek as she worked to keep her face carefully blank.

“They have decided your guilt. They need it.” Cassandra had not stopped walking, instead speaking over her shoulder as they continued forth. “The people of Haven mourn our most holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and Templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead.” Buffy frowned as they stepped off the bridge onto a roughly-beaten path. She was hardly a whiz at everything that went on in the world, but she had neither heard of a place called Haven nor someone called Divine Justinia. And what was a chantry? Was that like a church? She halted when she finally registered what else Cassandra had said.

“Mages? What, are those like witches?” Buffy asked, brow furrowed as she tried to work it out. “And what are Templars? Is that a type of demon?”

Cassandra swung around, pausing in her footsteps. Buffy recoiled as she saw the depth of the anger written across her features. “Are Templars… _no_! You insolent girl, how _dare_ you accuse the Order of being demons! They are the chantry’s soldiers, given to the noble cause of protecting us all from the peril of magic!” She gave a disgusted noise and turned to stomp off once more, even faster this time.

Buffy followed, mulling over everything she’d heard so far. She could logically come to the conclusion that mages used magic- she had been around enough nerds to know that was sometimes the title of a witch or wizard in a game- and the Templars were obviously warriors of a sort. Yet she still could pull nothing from the depths of her mind that gave her any indication as to where she was. This place was too large, too _civilized_ to be hidden away in some secret corner of the earth, _especially_ if there was a war going on, which was likely with how Cassandra spoke.

The path led to another short bridge, and they walked quickly across it, Cassandra yelling to open the gates for them to pass. As they continued past the opening another path appeared, this one lined with pebbles. Buffy ran around a few roughly-made ramparts, avoiding the screaming people fleeing past her with an ease gained by years of practice. She remained silent, not wishing to further incite her captor. At this point, her only goal was to get to the Breach and fix the problem; then, perhaps, she could go home.

They approached yet another bridge, Buffy catching up with Cassandra. Passing under the great arch that heralded the beginning of the stone structure, they sprinted toward the other side. As they crossed, the Breach let out another rumble and shot a sharp stream of green light toward them, hitting the bridge. As the stone crumbled beneath her, Buffy readied herself for the fall. Twisting in the air with precision, she managed to land on her feet on the frozen river, rocking back on her heels before regaining her balance fully. She reached out a hand to help Cassandra from where she had fallen on her back, but the woman snarled and batted away her hand. She climbed to her feet as another green flash appeared, this time hitting the ice in front of them. Out of the swirling green spot rose a form like nothing Buffy had ever seen before; clothed in dark rags, its skin was pitch black with large clawed hands and one bright red eye peering out at her from under a shabby hood. It was tall and lanky, radiating an aura of power and fear. She dropped into a defensive stance as Cassandra ran past her, sword and shield at the ready, engaging the thing in combat. Buffy was about to join when another twisting circle appeared in front of her, causing her to retreat slightly as another rose from the depths of the ice. Glancing around to familiarize herself with the surroundings so she could use them to the best of her abilities, she saw two daggers lying abandoned by a crate. She sprung herself over to them without any hesitation, swinging around to face the cloaked figure sliding eerily across the ice to her.

She ducked around it, slashing expertly across its side as she spun around, lunging forward to plunge one of the blades into its back. It let out an unearthly howl, and despite herself, she shuddered. Dancing away as it reached out a blackened claw, she grabbed onto the arm and yanked it down, jumping and twisting to land a kick in the back of the head. It fell to the ground, writhing, and she bounded over, black ichor spraying out as she severed its head from the body.

Pivoting to see how Cassandra was faring, she froze when the warrior stomped over to her, a sneer across her face. “Drop your weapons. _Now,_ ” she snarled, still brandishing her sword and shield, looking ready to cut Buffy down where she stood should she fail to comply.

Buffy rolled her eyes, one hand landing on her hip as it jutted out. “Seriously? You want me to be weaponless after those _things_ just popped up out of the ground like that? Look, if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

Cassandra gazed at her, the look on her face indiscernible.  Buffy stared back, defiant, having no desire to disarm. She would fight this woman, if she must, but she’d rather not. Despite being her captor, she knew what was going on here and Buffy felt she needed her to get to the Breach in order to fix it.

Finally, Cassandra sighed, sheathing her sword and placing the shield upon her back. “Fine. I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless,” she said, turning around. She took a few steps toward land before turning back around. “I should remember you agreed to come willingly.” With that, she continued forward. Buffy followed, slipping slightly on the ice when her awareness of her feet wavered, grinding her teeth in annoyance that the woman thought she would be _defenseless_ without the daggers.

The two women continued this way, Buffy fighting a few more of the black things on the top of a snow-covered hill. A new opponent popped up at this point; it glowed in the same eerie green light as the Breach and her palm, translucent and fast-moving. When they finally dispatched the group of two of those glowing things and two of the black monstrosities, they paused to catch their breath. Buffy took this opportunity to turn to Cassandra and ask what these monsters were; she’d never encountered them before in all of her years of slaying.

Cassandra gave her another look full of disbelief. “Those are _demons_ ,” she said haughtily, the sneer cropping back up. “And there are many more up ahead. Come, we must continue if we hope to reach the forward camp.”

They traveled up a set of stairs and soon the sounds of battle reached Buffy’s ears. They rounded a corner and she saw a large group of demons gathered around two men pouring out of a glowing spot in the sky. She snarled, running into the fray to slice her way through, jumping, twirling and kicking until they were surrounded by only rags and ichor. She leaned down to wipe off her blades with a semi-clean part of the ripped cloth left from a demon, unsure if it was wise to leave the black substance on the blade too long. Before she managed to do much, one of the men grabbed her left wrist and yanked her up toward the glow, shouting something that was lost to her ears amidst the sudden pounding in her temples. Her eyes widened in astonishment as her hand reached out further, a line of light flickering momentarily before connecting her palm to the fissure in the sky in front of them. It pulsed steadily, sending throbs of pain coursing through her body. She found herself unable to move as the sensations increased, and wondered briefly if she was about to meet her end…again. Then, as quickly as it started, the connection was severed and the rift was gone.

Staring down at her hand, she stumbled, the man catching her arm to steady her. She turned to look at him, blinking slowly as she took in his elongated face, bald head and… _pointed ears?_ “What… what did you do?” she asked, reeling from what just happened.

“I did nothing. The credit is yours,” the man answered stoically, cocking his head to the side as he considered her. She glanced down at her palm again, at the crackling green light dancing on her skin. When she remained silent, he continued. “Whatever magic opened the Breach also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that were opened in the Breach’s wake- and it seems I was correct.”

Buffy heard footsteps to the side, and soon Cassandra was next to her, peering at the man curiously. “Meaning it could close the Breach itself.”

He tilted his head in agreement. “Possibly.” He turned his gaze back to Buffy, curiosity evident in his posture. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” She blinked at him, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Good to know. And here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever,” came a voice from behind her. Spinning around, she found that she had to look down to see this man’s face. “Varric Tethras: Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.” He turned to wink at Cassandra, who turned away with a disgusted noise.

Buffy looked between the two men; something seemed off to her. “So…” she started, shifting slightly to face the first one. “Why are your ears pointed? Is that a magical thing or?” She had seen him casting spells in the midst of battle, albeit spells of a different kind than she was used to.

He cocked his head again, eyes searching her face as she heard Varric give a surprised chuckle and Cassandra make another noise of disbelief. “No,” he started slowly, cautiously. “I am an elf. My name is Solas. I am pleased to see you still live.”

“He means ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept’,” Varric chimed in from behind her.

“Thank you,” she said, trying to digest the fact that he- Solas- had just claimed he was an _elf_. That was preposterous… wasn’t it?

“Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process.” He gave one final assessing look to her before turning to face Cassandra. “Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is no mage; indeed, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.”

She inclined her head in response as Buffy looked between both of them. “Understood,” Cassandra said, turning away. “We must get to the forward camp immediately.” She disappeared down a decline of the path, the elf following closely behind her.

“Well… Bianca’s excited,” Varric said, motioning at a finely-kept crossbow on his back as he strolled past her.

They made their way over the frozen river to another set of stairs, about halfway up them when Varric asked her what happened at the Conclave. She answered truthfully, stating she didn’t remember; the same thing she had told Cassandra and Leliana. After a moment of thought, he told her she should have spun a story, to which she chuckled while Cassandra admonished him. They dispatched of another band of demons, falling into a rhythm as a group.

“You have some mighty impressive moves,” Varric said as he replaced Bianca upon his back. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone fight quite like you.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have,” she answered as she wiped off the blades in the snow to clean them. “I’m the Slayer, and there’s only one of us activated at a time.”

“The Slayer?” he responded, brow furrowed as he looked at her in confusion.

“It’s a long story,” she replied, turning to follow Cassandra and Solas up the side of a hill. “Short version is that I am sent to kill all the things that go bump in the night and to stop any apocalypses. I am stronger than your normal person and train a lot to make sure I’m on top of my game.”

If it was possible, he looked even more confused by the explanation. “I…see,” he said, though it was obvious that he didn’t. Buffy sighed, too exhausted by the events of the day to really want to work with him to help him understand. She decided to change the subject instead.

“So Solas is an elf? I didn’t know elves were real,” she said, blinking in surprise when Varric halted suddenly.

“You didn’t know they were _real?_ ” he asked skeptically, eyeing her closely. “Just what kind of game are you playing?”

She shook her head, blonde hair flying at the action. “There are no elves where I come from. Lots of weird things, sure, but not elves.”

“No elves, huh? What about dwarves, then?” he asked, slowly moving forward again, keeping his gaze steady on her.

“None of those, either. Why, are you a dwarf?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him, taking in his short and wide stature again. He nodded, working his short legs to catch up with Solas and Cassandra who had gained a lot of ground on them.

“Guilty as charged,” he responded. “Just _where_ are you from that there are no dwarves or elves?”

“America,” she answered confidently. She brushed her hair out of her face, squinting at the ground to make sure she wouldn’t slip on the thin layer of ice coating the path. She could see another rift ahead of them, in front of a gate, as well as feel the mark on her hand starting to vibrate as they moved closer.

“’fraid I don’t know where that is.”

Before she could answer, they reached the fissure in the sky, Cassandra and Solas already engaged in battle with more demons. Buffy joined in, doing her deadly dance as she peppered the creatures with her knives and the occasionally kick. Once the area was clear, she grudgingly reached out her palm toward the glowing spot, clenching her teeth when the pain set in to let her know she had successfully connected.

With a loud _pop!_ the rift disappeared like the last, and she lowered her hand, rubbing the palm gingerly. She briefly entertained the thought of how much the Breach would hurt if these little ones rob her of her breath before she stomped it out, unwilling to consider such a thing. The gates in front of them opened, and she rushed to keep up with Cassandra as the taller woman marched forward.

An argument was taking place in front of them between Leliana and a man dressed in the most ridiculous robes Buffy had ever seen. As they approached, she realized the disagreement was over her. She rolled her eyes and stepped to the side of the bridge they were on (and how many bridges were there in this blasted place?), looking at the frozen river below. She paid the voices behind her no heed until she noticed that they had fallen silent, and she turned around to see all eyes on her. Blinking, she bit the inside of her cheek as she realized she missed something. “Sorry, what was that?” she asked sheepishly.

Cassandra threw her hands up in the air and turned away, making a frustrated noise. Leliana watched Buffy intently before repeating her question. “What do you think we should do? Take the mountain path to the temple, or charge with the soldiers?”

Buffy considered the question, chewing on her lip as she thought. “I think we should charge with the soldiers,” she responded slowly. “It doesn’t seem like I’ll live long enough for this _trial_ you keep mentioning one way or the other, so let’s get this over with.” Leliana inclined her head and left to gather the remaining forces into the valley at the behest of Cassandra.

Buffy kept a blank mask on her face when the seeker walked over to her. “Let us go, then,” the woman said, brushing past her in the direction of the gate. Buffy turned, unable to keep a smile from flashing across her face as the adrenaline started coursing through her veins.

She had missed this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, Buffy, you can't just ask someone why their ears are pointed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy wakes in Haven and agrees to help the Inquisition.

 The sound of a fire crackling nearby filled her ears, the popping wood helping to ease her into consciousness. Blinking open her eyes, Buffy squinted up at the ceiling above her, slowly brushing away the cobwebs that seemed to have taken root in her mind. With awareness came the pain, and she groaned loudly, placing a hand gingerly on her side, flinching as she brushed over what was surely a nasty bruise.

A loud clatter rang out harshly in the room, and Buffy bolted up, sitting on the side of the bed with her fists raised in a defensive position. Before her stood an elf girl, a box spilled at her feet, food and drink spread across the floor. Her brown eyes were wide as she stared, backing up slowly with something akin to both fear and reverence written on her young face.

“I-I didn’t know you were awake, I swear!” she quickly stammered out, taking a few more steps backward before halting, grimacing as she dropped her eyes to the ground.

Buffy let out a sigh, lowering her fists and flashing a reassuring smile at the girl. “Hey, it’s okay, no big deal. I really only just-“ Her speech halted suddenly, jaw dropping as the elf abruptly fell, prostrating herself with her head touching the floor, brown hair dragging across the wood.

“I beg your forgiveness, and your blessing. I am but a humble servant.” She spoke into the floor, her voice muffled but still understandable. Buffy frowned at her, mouth bunched to the side as she tried to work out what was going on. Why was this young woman kneeling before her? “You are back in Haven, my Lady. They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand.” Tilting her head in curiosity, Buffy glanced down at the green light still shining forth from her hand, noting that it did seem to be stable currently- or as stable as such a thing could get, at any rate. “It’s all anyone has talked about for the last three days,” the girl finished, daring a glance up but quickly snapping her eyes back to the floor when she saw Buffy still regarding her with interest.

“So… it’s over? I’m no longer a prisoner? And I can finally wash my hair?” Buffy asked, doing a once-over of her surroundings. She seemed to be in a cabin instead of a cell this time, built completely from wood. A lone candle burned on the barrel that was placed next to her bed, the flame flickering as her breath fanned over it. The walls were lined with many fur pelts, no doubt trophies of whoever owned it. A small cage sat in a corner, empty, next to it a bookshelf filled with haphazardly piled books and knickknacks. Barrels seemed to be the preferred choice of counter, as the room was filled with them, topped with all manner of items.

Her attention was drawn back to the girl who stood suddenly, backing up slowly toward the door. “I-I don’t know for sure, my lady. I’m certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you’ve wakened. She said, ‘at once!’”

Buffy stood up, grimacing at the pang in her side at the action. Despite the flash of irritation she felt at the mention of her (former?) captor, she did her best to keep her face warm and welcoming so as not to frighten the elf more than she already had. “Did she now. And where might my favorite person _ever_ be?”

“I-In the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor.” Pace quickening a little too much, the girl stumbled over her feet momentarily before hastily straightening up, her face flushed with embarrassment. “At once, she said!” With that, she turned around and bolted out of the room, leaving a very confused Buffy in her wake.

Shaking her head, she picked up the brush that was sitting on the barrel next to the candle, pulling it through her tangled blonde locks as gently as she could, unsuccessful at breaking up the knots. It had been far too long since she had had a chance to clean up, her hair matted with dirt and demon ichor. There was a thin layer of brown over her tanned skin, and as she dared a glance at her reflection in a barrel that held water, she noticed her makeup was smeared and clumped in places. Her face twisted into a look of disgust; no wonder the poor girl had been so scared. She was quite the sight to behold, regardless of whether or not she had saved anybody.

She stripped the clothes she found herself wearing – a grey, pajama-like set that’s top had buttons completely down the front while the bottoms had some sort of weird pattern on them – and the thigh-high boots, determined to do what she could to clean up before going anywhere. _Lady Cassandra_ could stand to wait a little longer. She paused in confusion when she realized she was no longer wearing her bra, but some sort of band that wound around her chest and was tucked in at the back. It hadn’t really clicked yet with the clothes, but the change in her undergarments made it perfectly clear that at _some_ point, someone had changed her outfit.

She thought back to the battle with the giant monstrosity Varric had informed her was a “pride demon,” of how she had to dodge back and forth across the battlefield to balance trying to close the rift, keeping the demon’s odd form of armor down, actually hacking at said demon as well as taking on any lesser fiend that came her way. It had been a daunting task, even for her, and she had found herself caught off-guard one too many times when something would suddenly appear next to her and manage to land a blow.

She couldn’t recall what happened after defeating the demon other than closing the rift and then blacking out, but she realized that the clothes she’d been wearing must’ve been left in tatters. It made sense to change her into something new, even if the thought of someone doing it _for_ her was a bit unsettling, to say the least.

There was a sponge sitting next to the barrel, and she gratefully took it and dipped it in the cool water, dragging it across her skin as she scrubbed to try to get as much of the caked-on grime off as possible. She started with her face, managing to clean off the smudged make-up without much trouble. She then worked her way down her body, from her neck all the way to her feet, rubbing her skin nearly raw in an effort to rid herself of every last piece of dirt. When she was satisfied with the way her skin looked, she glanced around in hope that there would be something at least resembling shampoo nearby. Alas, fortune was not on her side, and she sighed heavily as she dunked her hair into the water gracelessly. She rubbed the locks between her fingers, massaging her scalp and doing her best to break up the clumps of matted hair. This task took the longest by far, and when she finally decided it was about as clean as she could manage with what she had, she stood back up, shivering as the cold water dripped down her back as she searched for a towel. Again she came up empty-handed, so she moved closer to the fire, squeezing the remaining moisture in her hair onto the floor, letting the fire warm her chilled skin and hasten the drying process.

When her hair could be classified as damp instead of wet, she pulled the pj-like clothes back on, running the brush back through her hair. It went through the strands with much less resistance this time, much to her relief. Resigned to the fact that this was as good as it was going to get, she finally marched to the door, pulling it open to let in the brisk autumn breeze.

The girl had said she was “back in Haven,” and yet she found she didn’t recognize the town at all. She took a few steps out toward a small flight of stairs, stopping when she came upon a man that appeared to be guarding the cabin.

“Excuse me,” she said, waving to get his attention and smiling when he looked at her. “Can you tell me where the, uh, Chantry is?”

His eyes widened as he took her in, and he hastily pressed a hand to his chest, folded so that his fist fell over his heart. “Yes, ser, Herald! You’ll find the Chantry at the top of the hill, just up that set of stairs and past the grouping of tents up there.”

She furrowed her brow at what he had called her, both “sir” and “Harold.” Did they think she was a man named Harold? That was preposterous; she couldn’t be more feminine if she tried! _Well, maybe that’s not exactly true,_ she thought to herself as she tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear. _I could get all dolled up in frills and pink, but I doubt that’s going to happen anytime soon._

“Um… thanks,” is all she ended up saying, giving him a small nod and trotting down the stairs. As she turned left at the bottom, she looked up and finally saw the large building that sat atop the hill, the architecture and decorations lining the stone beautiful enough on their own without the added breath-taking view of the peak of the roof standing proudly against the gorgeous mountain backdrop. _Yep_ , she thought as she climbed the next set of stairs, this one significantly longer than the last,  each step causing a twinge of pain in her side. _That’s definitely a church_. Giving herself a mental pat on the back for correctly guessing what a chantry was, she made her way toward the large, ornate wooden doors nestled inside the stone archway of the building, her long strides taking her past many people stationed outside of the nearby tents. She cringed slightly as all of them called out some variation of “Harold” and “sir,” followed occasionally but another title she didn’t recognize, not appreciating being called by the wrong name. Shaking her head as she finally approached the doors, she pushed them open, relieved when another young soldier motioned her toward the back without her having to ask. When she too placed a fist to her heart, Buffy quickly thanked her and moved on, not waiting for the greeting she knew was coming.

The inside of the chantry was just as beautiful as the outside; the stone floor was lined with a lush red rug that formed a pathway to the doors at the end of the hallway, while the pillars that stood off to the sides were made with intricate designs carved in them. She moved forward, gawking at the high ceiling and then the candelabras casting warm light throughout the large room in turn, not paying any attention to the other people she passed even as they stuttered in her presence. It didn’t take long before she stood at the door at the end of the rug, and she paused upon hearing the argument raging on the other side of it.

“Have you gone completely mad? She should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whomever becomes Divine!” Buffy frowned, crossing her arms across her chest as she listened. Apparently she was not out of the woods yet. Unfortunate.

“I do not believe she is guilty.” She did a double-take at the door, recognizing the foreign accent that was Cassandra’s. _She doesn’t think I’m guilty? When did that change?_ she wondered, narrowing her eyes in thought.

“The woman failed, Seeker.”

Rolling her eyes and determined not to listen any further, Buffy strode forward and threw the door open with more force than was strictly necessary, unsurprised to find the weird priest-man in the room as the one busy slandering her. She halted at the side of a table, jutting out a hip and placing her fist on it, leveling him with an unimpressed gaze. “I failed? So then, the Breach is still gobbling up the world as we know it? Funny, that’s not what _I_ heard.”

He glared at her with such fervor that she was thankful looks couldn’t actually kill, unflinching at her cold anger. “Chain her. I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial,” he said, not bothering to even acknowledge that she had spoken to him. Buffy opened her mouth to retort but was cut off by Cassandra.

“Disregard that, and leave us,” she ordered, pushing off the table she’d been leaning on as she dismissed the guards. Buffy raised an eyebrow as the two men saluted and then left without further ado, casting a triumphant glance in the priest’s direction.

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker,” he sneered, turning to face her directly.

“The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it,” she insisted, walking toward him with a hint of regret on her face. Buffy cocked her head as she watched them, wondering if there was more at play here than she realized. Cassandra obviously didn’t like him, yet there seemed to be something about his defiance that made her sad.

“You do realize that I helped you, right? I didn’t have to,” Buffy said, drawing their attention to her. She threw her hands up in the air in exaggeration as she continued, “I nearly _died_ trying to close that green thing, and you _still_ think I’m guilty? God, what does a person have to do to get a little redemption around here?”

A snarl passed over the priest’s face. “Yet you live. A convenient result, insofar as _you’re_ concerned.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Well, _yeah_ , I’d rather _not_ die, if at all possible. Are you saying that _you_ wouldn’t want to live?”

Cassandra raised a hand to silence his retort, weariness evident on her face even as it was replaced by anger. “Have a care, Chancellor. The Breach is not the _only_ threat we face.”

Leliana stepped forward, her red hair catching the light of one of the candles and glinting beautifully. “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others – or have allies who yet live.” Buffy was a bit startled at her appearance, having been so engaged in the argument between the priest – well, _chancellor_ – and Cassandra that she hadn’t noticed the other people in the room. She did a quick sweep and found there were two others there as well; a man she had met briefly on the battlefield – what was his name? Carl? – and a woman wearing the most outrageous attire she had ever laid eyes on.

“ _I_ am a suspect?” The chancellor’s indignant fury at the accusation drew Buffy back to the discussion at hand, and she smirked at him.

“You… and many others,” Leliana confirmed, her face a neutral mask even as she radiated a dangerous sort of power that made Buffy a little nervous.

“But _not_ the prisoner.” He violently tipped his head toward her, face set in a scowl.

The argument continued for a while, the chancellor and the two women going back and forth about Buffy’s innocence. Cassandra made a comment about Buffy being a “chosen one,” and Buffy simply nodded in agreement, a small act that seemed to simultaneously infuriate the chancellor and encourage Cassandra. Well, she was right; after all, Buffy was the Slayer- how more “chosen” could you get?

Cassandra slammed down a large tome on the table, causing Buffy to jump in surprise at the noise. She watched in amusement as the taller woman walked around the table to face the chancellor, forcing him to back up and out of the room before slamming the door forcefully on his face. She walked back to the table, scratching the back of her head as she scowled at the floor.

Leliana placed her hands reverently on top of the large book, and Buffy was surprised to see a small flicker of sadness flash across her face as she looked down at it. “This is the Divine’s directive: Rebuild the Inquisition of Old. Find those who will stand against the chaos.” She dropped her hands to the side, looking up to meet the eyes of everyone in the room as she continued. “We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers and now no Chantry support.” She shook her head slightly, mouth set in a grim line as she stared at the door the chancellor had been expelled through.

“But we have no choice: we must act now,” Cassandra countered, weariness permeating her voice. She turned to Buffy suddenly, earnest hope in her eyes. “With _you_ at our side.”

Buffy took a step back in shock, one hand falling on her chest as she stared at the woman before her. It shouldn’t have been surprising that they’d want the Slayer on their side, but she had figured she had a long way to go before they would trust her enough to ask her for help. She glanced around at the other three who stood with her in the room, seeing the same hope reflected on all their faces. She turned back to Cassandra and held out her hand. “Well. That’s what I’m here for, saving the world and trying to prevent chaos. So I’m your girl.”

Cassandra took her hand enthusiastically, nodding as a small smile was allowed to cross her otherwise grim face.

“Just uh… one thing first,” Buffy continued, dropping her hand as she plowed forward. “Can you get everyone to stop calling me ‘Harold?’ That’s not my name, it’s Buffy. And sir. I’m not a guy. If I _have_ to be called something formal, I suppose ma’am will do, though that makes me sound old.” She shivered slightly at the prospect, brushing some hair out of her face. “And also, um, where are we? And when? Because none of this is familiar and I’m a little confused.”

All four of them were staring at her with varying levels of bemusement, and she cringed a little, wondering if she had perhaps said something wrong. It was hard to tell, she was so out of her element here.

“It is 9:41 Dragon, and this is Haven, in Ferelden,” Leliana spoke quietly, eyes boring into Buffy uncomfortably. “Which is in Thedas; surely you must know at least that?”

Buffy shrugged helplessly, more confused than when she began. “Is Thedas… a country?” she attempted to clarify, not at all encouraged by the loud noise of disbelief that came from Cassandra at the question.

“Thedas is… well, it’s our world,” Leliana answered, head tilted to the side as she searched Buffy intently with her eyes.

“But… but that’s not possible,” Buffy said, eyes large as she looked at the ground, trying to work it all out. “The world is called earth, not Thedas. Earth. Where the demons are different and there’s no elves or dwarves… and… where am I?”

Without bothering to give them a chance to reply, she turned and departed quickly out of the room, across the lush rug and out the large doors back into the open air. She cast a glance around, gaze landing on a copse of trees of her left, and she ran, not wanting to face what she already knew.

She was no longer on earth. _Again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long time in between chapters, but to be brutally honest, that's not likely to change. I am very nervous about writing this, and thus it takes me a bit to finally come up with something I like. Sorry in advance. Hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> ~*~  
> If you ever feel like I'm doing something OOC, please let me know. As always, kudos and comments are welcomed with open arms. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Did you love it? Did you... *gasp* hate it? Let me know! I'm always open for reviews, comments and helpful criticism.  
> I'm here to grow. :)
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr as StarlingHawke


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